Drunk then Dating
by ALilyPea
Summary: Lita goes out drinking, meets a guy, gets rescued by a certain knight in tattooed armor. This is their story.
1. Drunk

Written for lita_fics 500 words or less, prompt 11. "Did I vomit on you?" Part one in a series.

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Amy couldn't remember the last time she'd been this drunk and was beginning to feel pretty fucking stupid for doing it. She didn't know why she had let Trish convince her that this was a good idea, because it most definitely was not and she didn't even know where Trish had gone off to but seemed to recall something about going back to Jeff's room.

Bleary eyed she looked at the guy helping her and smiled, "Thank you for helping me."

Preoccupied he nodded his head, glancing around him as his arm tightened around her shoulders. "I'll get you back to your hotel, don't worry babe."

Amy nodded her head, stumbling under the weight of his arm, "Thank you again."

"Actually, I work with her and can help her back to the hotel, thanks man," a new voice said.

Amy turned and looked at Phil Brooks, better known to fans as CM Punk. "Hello," she told him, and stumbled forward to greet him, surprised when he caught her with ease.

"It's really okay," the guy said, gesturing widely, in a way that made Amy feel dizzy.

"Amy do you know this guy?" Phil asked, looking down at her.

Amy glanced back at the guy and shook her head, "no. He was just a good...a good sim...silmarillion."

Phil's lips quirked up in a small smile and he looked amused. "I think you mean Samaritan and not a book by Tolkien."

"Yes, that," Amy nodded her head.

"Well I will take care of you from now on," Phil glared at the guy, who deciding it probably wouldn't be good to mess with a professional wrestler took off.

"From now on? But Punk we hardly know each other," Amy told him, leaning heavily into his side she whooped when he lifted her like he would a bride. "Are we getting married?"

"We haven't even had a first date," Punk told her but laughed softly.

Amy groaned, shifting around she opened her eyes, feeling like someone was taking a jackhammer to her skull. She glanced next to her and jerked up startled, making her stomach turn.

"Oh god," she murmured, her voice seeming too loud.

"Good morning," Punk said from where he was lying on top of the covers on his side, clothing on but she still felt suspicious.

"Did we sleep together?" Amy asked him, biting her bottom lip.

"Sleep as in slumber yes, sleep as in sex no, I like my woman conscious," Punk told her.

"Did I...vomit on you?" Amy questioned, red.

"Only my left shoe at which point you told me you would replace it, apparently you know people who sell only left shows," Punk said, chuckling.

"Oh God, I am so sorry," Amy told him.

"It's fine," Punk squeezed her shoulder. "You owe me a date though."

"I do?" Amy asked surprised.

"Yep."

**The End**


	2. He Doesn't Care

This is for prompt 12. "I don't care." From lita_fics 500 words or less. This is the second in the Drunk then Dating series.

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"This is your idea of a first date?" Amy asked him, her mouth agape as she looked down at the ticket she held in her hand.

"Yeah, why? Is it a bad idea?" Phil questioned, leaning against the door-jam of her hotel room with a small smile on his face and one hand tucked in his pocket. He felt a little smug too, because this by far was the best date idea he'd ever had but it only seemed fitting for a woman he'd admired for a long time.

"No, are you kidding me? I freaking love the Bouncing Souls," Amy replied, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Just let me get my coat, and I'll be ready to go," she kissed his cheek and rushed back into the room to grab her coat, returning quickly.

Phil offered her his hand when they were out of the room, laughing when Amy looked at him questioningly.

"You want me to hold your hand?" Amy asked, her eyebrows rose in surprise.

"I'm told it's what people do on dates," Phil smiled at her, taking her hand, "don't expect it all the time though."

"Of course not," Amy replied, feeling like he had given her the whole world, her emotional high only fading slightly when they ran into Ashley Massaro, the dirty, literally dirty, possibly disease infected blonde snorting at the make shift couple.

"Seriously Punk? Her?" Ashley asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Of course her, who else would I date? You?" Phil laughed, rolling his eyes skyward as he did so and making Amy feel substantially better.

"I never thought you would go for someone else's leftovers," Ashley replied, frowning.

"As opposed to you, the whore of the world, I've heard doctor's discovered all new STDs on you, I feel fearful just being this close," Phil told her with a smirk.

Ashley rolled her eyes, "whatever, it won't last. Never does with that slut," she turned to walk away, surprised when Phil grabbed her arm, not hard, but enough to halt her progress down the hall.

"Now you can say whatever the fuck you want about me, I don't care. But you will not talk about Amy like that in my presence, got it?" Phil asked her, his voice soft but serious.

Ashley looked up into his eyes, and nodded before making her way down the hall.

Amy stood nearby, biting her bottom lip she smiled weakly at him. "People will talk you know, it's what they do," she said.

"Like I told Ashley, I don't care. I really don't, I like you and that matters more than any shit that spills from their mouths," Phil insisted before grabbing her hand gently. "We've gotta get going the opening band is supposed to be the shit."

Amy smiled as she walked by his side, happy for the first time in a while.

**The End.**


	3. Stop Poking Me

Inspired by prompt 12. "Stop poking me" at lita_fics for 500 words or less.

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It was their first night together and Amy was beginning to realize that her newly crowned boyfriend could be a real pain in the ass, as much as she was beginning to love him.

"Stop that," she squirmed around on the bed, one leg over both of Phil's as she couldn't help but laugh as he poked her again.

"Stop what?" Phil asked her, fingers digging into her sides again.

"Stop poking me," Amy replied squirming and laughing again as he pulled her into his lap, one arm sliding around him and the other hand free to try and get him to stop.

"Stop poking you what?" Phil questioned.

"Stop poking me and I'll give you a kiss," Amy told him, triumphant when he did stop.

"That's much better than please," Phil leaned up to kiss her on the lips, one hand on her thigh and the other sliding upward into her hair before he rolled them over so he was hovering over her.

Amy tugged him down, deepening the kiss she very slowly slid her tongue along his bottom lip, then into his mouth with a soft moan as her eyes slid shut.

Phil kept one hand in her hair, the other now stroking her side as he enjoyed the taste of her and found himself thankful for alcohol for the first time in his life because if she hadn't gotten drunk they would definitely not be doing this right now.

"Phil...Phil," Amy pulled back for a moment, looking up at him with a wicked grin on her face.

"I swear to God, Amy, if the next words out of your mouth are stop poking me I will leave right now," Phil told her.

"No that would be juvenile," Amy laughed softly leaning up to kiss him again on the lips. "I just wanted to stay I think you're a really good kisser."

"Only really good?" Phil asked arching an eyebrow. "I guess I need more practice then, if I'm only really good at kissing."

Amy nodded, a faux solemn look on her face. "Lots of practice in fact," she giggled this time as his lips met hers, the sound melting away as she got more involved in the kiss.

He was fantastic actually, but she wasn't going to say so. His ego definitely didn't need the boost.


	4. Frosting

Phil approached Amy's front door, a pink pastry box in his hands as he did so and a small smile on his lips. He hadn't seen his girlfriend in two weeks, during which they'd been in separate parts of he world, him in the U.S and her in the U.K but it was break time and luckily she'd invited him over.

The door opened before he even stepped up on the porch and he had to set the box down quickly before a whirlwind of black clothing and red hair hugged him tightly.

"Hey," he greeted, pulling away for her long enough for a heated kiss, on both their parts. "Did you miss me?"

Amy nodded her head, smiling and breathless. He'd forgotten how beautiful she was. "What's in the box?" she asked him and he had to jerk away from her in order to focus.

"Oh, cupcakes," Phil replied shrugging his shoulders and feeling a little awkward. "A friend of mine made them, I didn't really know what else to bring."

Amy picked up the box by the strings wrapped around them. "Extra frosting?" she questioned over her shoulder as she grasped his hand and tugged him into the house, closing the door behind them and began leading him to her bedroom.

"Uh yeah," Phil responded, distracted. "Amy don't you wanna put those down?"

"Nope," Amy told him, not setting them down until they were in her bedroom and he barely had a chance to look around before she knocked him back on the bed and kissed him passionately on the lips, her tongue in his mouth and then her lips on his throat.

The two of continued a while, exchanging kisses and teasing little bites until she reached over and opened the box, beautiful in just her panties straddling him. Their clothes had given way to passion long ago for the most part.

"What are you doing?" Phil asked, arms behind his head, enjoying the sight and the feeling of her.

"Oh you know," Amy gasped as his fingers slid past the barrier of her panties and squirmed, dropping the cupcake frosting down on him by accident. "That."

Phil pulled the cupcake off his skin, making a face before he grinned up at her, flipping them over he smeared it all along her front before setting it on the nightstand and diving after the frosting, her moans of delight echoing in his ears.

Half hour later Phil slumped down on the bed next to her, panting roughly as he tried to catch his breath and Amy curled up against him the two of them sticky and sweaty.

"Fuck me," he murmured, draping an arm over his eyes. "I love cupcakes."

Amy laughed breathily and kissed him solidly on the lips, tasting the strawberry frosting there quite happily. "I think I already did, Phil."

"Oh yeah, you did didn't you. Well that's good."


	5. One More

They've been split up, an example of WWE's apparent "creativity" and Vince's hatred for inter-locker room relationships or some bullshit thing like it and Phil was finding it hard to let her go even if they've only been together for six months now.

It's a PPV, and when he saw her it was like something else took him over and he dragged her into the nearest storage closet.

"What are you doing?" Amy hissed, even as her eyes danced with laughter and she returned every kiss he gave her, long or short.

"I've missed you," Phil muttered, hand pressed to her back and the other braced against the wall behind her as he ignored the fact that they were making out next to the mop.

"Missed you too," Amy replied even as she pressed herself against him and wondered if they were crazy for doing this because she had never felt this much passion or need or want for any other person she'd ever been with.

Phil kissed her again, stroking her hair back from her face and cupping her jawline even as his thumb ghosted across her cheek.

It was a few minutes more before he heard the loudspeaker calling her name.

"I've gotta go," Amy told him, slipping out of his arms and approaching the door. "Wish me luck," she grinned at him.

Phil grabbed for her arm and then finally reached her in the dark, laughing as he did so, lowering his mouth to hers he kissed her long and hard, letting go only when she melted into him.

"Just one more kiss," he said hoarsely smirking.

"Asshole," Amy said playfully before heading out of the closet.

Phil sighed to himself and ran his fingers through his hair as he stepped out, surprised when she was waiting and kissed him quickly before running down the hall.


	6. Getcha

Amy had seen more than a few amusing sights in her life but this one was really taking the cake so to speak.

She had seen Jeff drunk, seen grown men behave like frat boys and jump off balconies and into snow banks only to be caught red handed in their boxers by their boss.

But she had never seen her boyfriend like this, and the sight was one that almost caused her to double over in laughter.

CM Punk, better known to his friends as Phil Brooks was doing the dishes, and as he did them was dancing.

It was pretty much hilarious.

The fact that he was singing 'Carwash' only made things even more amusing.

She covered her mouth with one hand, stifling her laughter as his sock feet slid along the floor and he danced a little more, clearly in a good mood.

Amy couldn't deny she felt a little proud of herself, because she hoped that his happiness, in part was due to her influence on his life, just like her happiness was due in part to him.

Phil spun around on the balls of his feet and was shocked enough it showed on his face and sent her into peels of laughter.

"How long have you been there?" he asked her.

Amy continued laughing, holding her stomach as it was beginning to hurt. "Long enough to know I should recommend a CM Punk dances segment to Stephanie or Vince or whoever I happen to see next."

Phil approached her, a sneaky look in his eye. "Amy," he warned her vocally.

Backing away Amy smiled; pulling out her cell phone she searched through the numbers on it for Stephanie's and turned tail and ran a few moments later grinning as Phil followed after her, promising to get her back for this as Stephanie answered the phone and heard nothing but laughter.


	7. Tipsy

"You've been out with Trish again, haven't you?" Phil murmured, supporting her as they walked toward the hotel. He'd been surprised to find her sitting on the bench outside, but couldn't help himself as he smiled at the sight of her even if she was tipsy.

"How do you know?" Amy asked, leaning into him with a soft laugh, tilting her head to the side as she hugged his arm to her side and laughed again.

Phil rolled his eyes, sighing softly as he did so. He didn't really mind her drinking, not as much as he minded other people and had to admit it was a source of amusement when she got all giggly and relaxed like this.

"Because you're only this giggly when you've been drinking red wine and you only drink red wine when you're with Trish," Phil slipped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "Now what are you doing here?"

"You don't want me here?" Amy asked him right before she tripped and almost fell on her face.

"Of course I want you here," Phil replied as he laughed. "But you're not on this show."

"Yes I am," Amy nodded, smiling up at him.

"You are?" Phil asked her. "Where is your stuff then? Your bags?"

Amy leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. "In your room."

"When were you in my room?" Phil was shocked, had she been in there before he'd left the second time to go to the gym and he just hadn't noticed her bags.

"At about 4, then Trish came and picked me up," Amy explained, snuggling into his side she sighed happily as they stepped into the elevator.

"Oh, good," Phil nodded his head happy that he wasn't apparently completely unaware of his surroundings.

Amy nodded as well, gripping his t-shirt in one hand now. "Do you mind?"

"Mind you staying with me? Hell no," Phil replied, kissing the top of her head and unlocking the door. "Sit down before your fall down," he lead her over to the bed and helped her get comfortable, kneeling next to the bed to look into her eyes as she swayed drunkenly toward him.

"Now here is the important question," Phil told her, meeting her eyes with a solemn look on his face. "Do you feel like you may vomit?"

Amy shook her head and smiled when he got up on the bed, curling up into his body. "Just wanna stay here for a little while like this, then coffee."

"Okay," Phil agreed, stroking her hair mindlessly.

"I love you," Amy murmured into Phil's shirt, her eyes sliding shut.

Phil smiled to himself, nodding his head as she drifted off into a deep sleep. "I love you too," his voice was a little harsher than he would have liked but the emotion was fueling it.

Amy smiled in her sleep, still gripping his shirt in one hand as she did so, drunk and content.


	8. Hopeful Romantics

"I can't believe we're doing this," Punk told her, shaking his head in amusement he wrapped his arms around her. "It's cheesy isn't it?"

"Might be," Lita responded, "but Trish told me about it and she said it wasn't to be missed so I want to see it, it's an experience babe, deal with it," she nudged him lightly and let out a soft laugh.

Punk nuzzled her neck, grinning as he did so he just couldn't help himself; there was something about her that still amused him so. "I thought you weren't a hopeless romantic," he teased, murmuring the words into her ear as she leaned back against his chest.

"I'm not," Lita replied, squeezing one of his hands once she'd captured it, knowing both of them would deny this moment if asked about it until the day they died.

"What are you then?" Punk asked her, squeezing back gently.

"A hopeful romantic," Lita told him with a soft laugh as the sun dipped below the clouds and a smile spread across her face.

"That is pretty cool," Punk commented after a few moments of silence on his part. "The sunset I mean."

"Of course," Lita said in a sly tone of voice, turning to look at him.

Punk kissed her softly on the lips, calloused fingers sliding along her jawline and up into her hair as she deepened the kiss.

Lita moaned softly, laying back with him on the blanket, one hand pressed to the ground beneath his shoulder, the blanket a little scratchy underhand.

"I think you look pretty good in the dim light of a sunset," Punk told her gruffly a moment later.

Unable to help herself Lita laughed, kissing him quickly once again. "You sound so uncomfortable, we've been dating for months, you should know by now I don't need pretty words, especially when they come out sounding so choked."

"Oh? No pretty words at all?" Punk joked.

"Well you could tell me I'm beautiful," Lita told him with a small smile.

"You are," Punk confirmed, kissing her just once, quickly.

"And gorgeous."

"Uh huh," Punk nodded, giving her another kiss.

"And sexy," Lita continued, enjoying their little game.

"Oh definitely sexy," Punk grinned wickedly, wiggling his eyebrows.

"And that you'll come home with me this weekend to have dinner with my family," Lita wheedled.

Punk groaned, dropping his head back on the blanket. "How'd I know that was coming? I saw it, I knew there was a trap but there was no survival instinct in me to avoid it."

"Please," Lita requested, as he had been avoiding it for so long she was concerned he wasn't as serious as she was.

"Your mother will not like me," Punk told her.

"She already likes you," Lita insisted.

"So you say, but wait till she pulls out the bat and tries breaking kneecaps," Punk joked.

"She would never," Lita pretended to be offended.

"Okay."

"Water torture however. She's into that."

"Oh nice."

"So you'll come?"

"Yes."


End file.
